His mind tells him that she is flirting with him, not in an obvious way but with a subtle mental inquiry.
He knew by the way she romances and clings to his words like poetry that seeps through her mind and invades her thoughts. He sees her smile without hearing her voice, by the click that plays easily on the ‘like’ icon which alerts him instantly. Cautiously, she uses the new feature to highlight her reaction with a heart to reveal her excitement.
He waits impatiently for any sign of her online, clicking on posts that bore common interests and some, none. She captures his actively colourful imagination like the force of gravity which keeps him planted on her every move. He can feel her hurt by the way she intentionally ignores him as if he exists within another realm, an unknown dimension. Feeling responsible for awakening the darkness of her past, he maintains a positive outlook on all possibilities. She senses the fears from which she hides the scars that she keeps hidden, for so long, surfaces. He knows that such memories can bludgeon his opportunity to win her heart.
He readily notices that she disappears at length when he makes her vulnerable and unguarded. Yet he understands her reluctance to comment openly on the emotive push of her heart. A heart that seems to know no boundaries since of late beats rapidly when she thinks of him. He can feel her deciphering the simplest of comments for abstract meanings that connects them both. Questioning himself, he makes a gamble in an attempt to learn her personal inclinations.
A share from YouTube gives her a peek into his soul with his song choices. If Teddy Pendergrass can’t reach her, then his moves are pointless. Still, he shares them without betraying the crossroads of hastily designed interpretations. She continues to search deeper into the lyrics for a connection and a meaning to this fantasy. His mind stimulates her search for infinite knowledge on the notions of love and its effects. Feeling the pull of her controlled curiosity, he lets go to allow her the freedom to enjoy her own independence and intuitive responses to her desires.
That tingling spark that remains like a burst of energy within his stomach tells him that his direction has changed. It feels like butterflies fluttering in efficient unison around his heart. He no longer searches her page for new posts as he now has her followed throughout and is alerted by notifications. Nights become an eternity of senseless travel while he imagines her surfing the ‘net’ for interesting articles to discuss, should the need arise.
He sees that she finds humour in his every word and constantly touches his comments, approvingly. She isn’t as young as he first thought but shows no wrinkles or sagging on her profile pictures. Her maturity demands a man’s respect and cloaks her protectively from the advances of vain and uninteresting men. He notes that she enjoys the gifts of nature and the natural expression of her ebony skin, undaunted by make-up. She wears no addition to her nails and eyelashes which appears to have found an insult to be mistaken as one who adorns such features without reason. Not to be abusively loud about it but more so, defending her own efforts in staying natural for the look and feel of her personal tastes and satisfaction.
Naturally beautiful, with an inviting smile that sparkles with playful happiness on her timeline, he looks on, entranced. Her eyes paint a mesmerizing gloss of an unusual brown which hypnotizes men into a helpless stare and he is no different. Her wit is swift and cunning, carrying an undeniable tone of impulsive fascination with sexual contents. He watches her even more then, bringing his imagination to the edge of its circle and widens his appetite for her. Ping! There it is again, the familiar sound of Messenger alerting contact. His heart races and he wonders if she finally feels like saying something or anything that draws them closer.
He checks with a familiar expectation, and smiles with relief that she remembers him, if only for this moment. Weighting his words he responds but is at lost with the restrictive play on words and just let go. His freedom and her interest creates an enigmatic connection that makes him want to just go offline and just ask for her number. Her voice rings in his head, like a beautiful orchestra of musical composition. Even though it bears no familiarity but pure imagination, it holds him like a bondage slave. He lets go his guard and allows it to creep into his head slowly as his walls crumbles and he is now exposed. He wants her! For the first time, he knows, she has him!
I AM LYLE PURPLEHEART – @ PurpleHeart
Oakley Lyle is an author and poet – Visit his Facebook Page HERE
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